


Allyship

by 9CentsChange



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: AU, Canon Divergence, Oneshot Series, depictions of violence, malice/allison eventually, not connected to the other fanfic i wrote for them, nothing super graphic, so i'm tossing around some ideas, tom and allison have a brother/sister relationship, tom is grumpy, very slow burn, wasn't super satisfied with chapter 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-08-08 14:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16431452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9CentsChange/pseuds/9CentsChange
Summary: Allison, Tom, and Henry happen across a freshly-revived Alice Angel. In a split-second decision, they take her hostage.





	1. Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> **Minor BATIM Spoilers:**
> 
> I was personally just a little disappointed with the final chapter to Bendy and the Ink Machine. I feel like Tom and Allison could've been given much more screentime and development in general, which is why I wanted to write this little idea for an AU/canon divergent story line. 
> 
> This will most likely be a series of oneshots if I continue it. They're connected, but they won't be following a strictly set timeline.

Henry heard the sounds before he saw it. A strangled, gurgling noise, like a half-drowned creature struggling for air. When he turned the corner in search of the source of the noise, he froze. A puddle of ink was bubbling, pulsating under a Bendy statue.

And something was crawling out of it.

A black hand burst out of the ink first, hitting the hardwood floor with a wet squelch as another hand followed suit. A head emerged next, coated with ink and dripping everywhere.

The figure gasped, desperate for air as it pulled itself free from the puddle with a final heave. It lay in a fetal position on the floor, it's body wracked with breaths as it inhaled and exhaled heavily.

Henry took a step closer. But then the ink coating the figure began to melt away, revealing the figure underneath it.

Two sharp horns and a broken halo protruded from the figure's head.

Allison appeared behind him. "Henry? What's-" She came to a halt as well the moment she saw who was on the floor. Tom, who had followed her, had stopped as well.

The angel's breathing steadied as she pushed herself up from the floor, her black hair concealing her face as she got into a sitting position. She looked up, and saw three figures staring back at her, her eye quickly darting between the three of them.

Allison took a breath, about to speak, when Tom suddenly rushed past her. "Tom? What the hell are you-"

His gent pipe collided with Alice's temple with a sickening crack. Her head snapped backwards as she was sprawled on the floor in a split-second. Even Henry couldn't hold back a wince.

Tom grabbed her by the front of her dress with his mechanical arm and hoisted her up, slamming her up against the Bendy statue she had just been revived from. He brought his gent pipe across her neck and pressed down with both hands, effectively pinning her to the wall.

Alice's head lolled to the side as she struggled to regain her bearings. A trail of black ink poured down her forehead where Tom had struck her, leaking down into her one good eye. "... Good day to you too..." She spat bitterly at the wolf. "Filthy canine..."

Tom only responded with a snarl and pressed harder on her throat. She made a choked sound and tried to struggle free, but her feet were lifted clean off the floor.

Tom looked over his two companions, specifically Allison, waiting for her to give the final say on what they ought to do with their unexpected guest.

Allison watched them for a long moment, her eyebrows tensed as the gears turned in her head. She glanced at Henry, who gave her a small shake of his head and gestured towards her. He was at a loss for what to do, she had to be the final judge.

She turned back to Tom, who was still waiting for a command. Above their heads, she could hear heavy footsteps. The Ink Demon was on the prowl, and it wouldn’t be long before he’d find find them. They were running out of time.

"... We need to take her with us."

Tom gave her a look of absolute shock. Even Alice, for just a moment, looked absolutely dumbfounded.

Henry stepped closer towards her, glancing between her and Allison. "Are... Are you sure that's our best option? She’s tried to kill me. Several times."

"I know." Allison gave him a curt nod and started towards Tom and Alice. "But if we let her go, she'll be a threat. And if we kill her again..." She looked up at the Bendy statue and back down to meet Alice's eyes. "Well, she won’t be gone for very long, it seems."

Alice would have spit a rather harsh retort back at her if she weren't on the edge of blacking out. So she settled for a glare as she tried to ignore the spots dancing in her vision.

Tom, on the other hand, tightened his grip on his gent pipe and shook his head firmly.

"You heard me." Allison replied, sounding more annoyed than anything at Tom’s defiance. "I don't like this any more than you do. But it's the only option we have."

He pressed the pipe harder, not breaking eye contact with Allison. Alice struggled desperately for air.

"Tom." Her voice was unwavering. "Put. Her. Down."

He stayed still. Alice's eye rolled back into her head. Allison didn't move.

A eternity of a second passed, and then Tom removed his pipe. Alice crumpled to the floor beneath him, gasping deeply and coughing for dear life.

He turned and walked back towards Henry, casting a disapproving frown in Allison's direction as he stomped past both of them and down the hall from which they had come. 

Henry watched as the wolf disappeared behind a corner, most likely headed back towards their hideout. He turned back to the two angels, one of which was on her knees again, a hand clutching at her throat.

Allison came up to her and unsheathed her sword, gripping the hilt tightly as she lowered the sharp point down to Alice's eye level. "Stand up, and start walking."

Alice lifted her head up, giving the woman the most unimpressed look she could muster. "Or what, little miss vigilante. You'll run me through again?"

She brought her sword closer until the tip was pressed against Alice's throat. "We could always tie you up and leave you as bait for the Ink Demon. Your skin, not ours. So stand up. And start walking."

Alice went silent, but slowly rose to her feet, not breaking eye contact as she did so.

Allison gestured in the direction Tom had went with her head. "Follow Henry back to the safe house."

Henry, realizing that was his cue, nodded to Allison and started down the hallway. Truth be told, he wasn't all too happy about this either. But Allison had a point. It seemed like they were going to have to keep their friends close, and their enemies closer.

\-----

Tom was in his chair when they arrived, not bothering to greet them at the door, or even spare a passing glance as Allison led their prisoner at knife point into their makeshift cell. Henry watched quietly as Allison closed the door to the cell, locking it with a key which she then slipped onto her utility belt.

Alice was sitting on a cot inside her cell, her elbows on her knees, looking far more defeated than Henry had ever seen her before. Even then, he still found her unsettling.

Allison leaned up against a table as she sheathed her sword again. "I'll take first shift tonight. How does that sound?"

Tom didn't bother turning his head to acknowledge her.

She sighed and shook her head, standing up again and heading for the door. "I'll be back in a few hours. Don't kill each other while I'm gone, alright?" She didn't wait for an answer as she opened their door and exited their safe house.

Now it was silent. Save for the occasional sound that came from Tom tapping the end of his gent pipe in the palm of his mechanical hand. The tension was so thick Henry could have been strangled by it.

He was never one for small talk, but he had to try and ease this somehow. He pulled up another chair next to the table and sat down. "So... If it gives you any comfort, I'm not sure how much I like this idea either."

He glanced over at Tom again, who didn't show any signs of a response. "But... it's probably the best option out of all the choices we had. I trust Allison and her judgement, don't you?"

Tom kept his eyes on the floor.

A small sigh escaped him. This didn't seem to be helping at all. "I... I've had a few run-ins with her before this. Alice, I mean. So, I can understand why you're upset about this..."

Tom stopped tapping his gent pipe. He slowly sat up and lifted his head to face Henry, his brow still furrowed in what seemed to be a near-permanent scowl. For just a moment, Henry wasn't sure what Tom was going to do next. Then, he set his pipe down and began fiddling with the screws on this mechanical arm. A moment later, the forearm popped off, revealing a stump where the rest of his real arm should have been.

Henry swallowed, and then nodded, understanding what Tom was trying to tell him. "I see... You've got a good reason to be wary, then..."

A small nod was Tom’s only response, and then he placed his forearm back where it should be and reattached it.

Across the room, an exasperated sigh was heard. "You know I can hear you, right? We're only about seven feet apart." Alice, still sitting on her cot in a secluded corner of her cell, was giving them both a very chastising look. "I think I'd have a more riveting conversation with the brick wall over here if I so desired."

Tom tensed when he heard her speak, snapping to attention and curling his lip in a small snarl again.

"Ohh, did I strike a nerve there, little wolf?" Alice tilted her head and batted her eyelashes. "I almost had you once, you know. Don't think that I can't get the rest of you someday."

Tom stood to his feet, gripping his gent pipe as tightly as he could.

Henry quickly rose to his feet and brought a hand to his shoulder. "Tom, hey. Don't let her get to you. She won't be able to hurt you, not as long as she's in there."

Thankfully, Tom listened after a moment, and lowered himself back into his chair.

He breathed a small sigh of relief and sat back down at well. The last thing he needed a fight breaking out while Allison was gone. Over on the table, a small pack of cards caught his eye. "... Hey, Tom. Do you know any card games?"

Tom lifted his head and raised an eyebrow at him.

"I know a few myself." He pulled his chair over to the table and started shuffling the cards. "You know how to play poker?"

Tom's ear twitched, and then he shrugged slightly and stood up to join him at the table. Might as well find a way to pass the time.

Alice, meanwhile, rolled her eye at the two of them and went back to brooding. This was going to be a long few hours.


	2. Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Allyship. Allison and Alice have a little conversation while Tom and Henry are out patrolling.

  
   _I'm just a lonely angel... Sittin' here on a shelf..._  
  
    Alice's eyes twitched as she slowly rose out of her rather shoddy attempt at sleep. Was that music she heard?  
  
     _At times it seemed, if I just dreamed... I'd not be by myself..._  
  
    She lifted her head as her consciousness began to return. It seemed she hadn't dreamed being clocked with a gent pipe and then thrown in here yesterday.  _Unfortunately_.  _God_  her head still hurt.   
  
     _I never gave up hoping... That you would come along..._  
  
    She pulled herself into a sitting position on her cot- uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe this thing- and craned her neck towards the small window in her cell. It took a long moment for her skull to stop throbbing long enough to focus on who was out there. That other angel girl, the one who held her at knife point, was on the other side of the room. Her back was turned to Alice, and she was dipping a brush into a large container of black ink and painting on the wall in front of her. But most interestingly of all: she was singing.   
  
     _How bleak it seemed, till you found me... So now I sing this song..._  
  
    That song. That little melody that she always hummed to herself while extracting organs or repairing her machines. She could sing it in her sleep if she wanted to. But to hear it coming from someone else... She may as well have been hearing it for the first time.   
  
    The angel continued to hum as she leaned over and dipped her brush in more ink, her free hand coming up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind her ear as she worked, completely unaware that she had an audience of one behind her.   
  
    _I'm just a lonely angel..._  
  
    Her voice was sweet. Sickeningly sweet. Alice would have never guessed a woman of such a...  _ruffian_  nature could have been capable of pulling such a song off. And yet, she was carrying the tune perfectly.   
  
    Alice rested an elbow on her knee and set her cheek in the palm of her hand. She could practically feel the music around her, flitting about before dissipating into nothing. For just a moment, she may have softly hummed along with them before they were gone.   
  
    Then, the singing stopped. Alice froze. Had she heard her?  
  
    The angel slowly turned to look behind her, her expression softening slightly as she caught sight of Alice on her cot. "Oh, good morning." She turned back to her work on the wall. "I was starting to wonder when you were going to wake up. Almost thought Tom had done you in."  
  
    Alice's expression immediately soured. Who was she trying to fool with that friendly little facade? Acting like she hadn't just held her at knife point the other day, was she? Oh no, she wasn't going to be falling for it.  
  
    "There is  _nothing_  good about this morning, assuming it's even morning at all." She gestured to the room around her. "Heaven knows the last time  _any_  of us have seen sunlight."  
  
    Her lookalike merely glanced back at her, raising a slender eyebrow, and then shrugged. "Alright then, fair enough. How about I leave you to your brooding then. If that's the sort of conversation you'll be keeping up, anyway." Once again Alice was greeted with the back of her ponytail as she continued painting on the wall.  
  
    Alice immediately deflated the moment her back was turned again, her back slouching and her arms crossed. Any attempt at being intimidating had been all but thrown out the window. It is difficult, she supposed, given the position she was in. Trapped here, amongst the miscreants who had only served to make her life even  _more_ miserable. All of her work, the extracted parts of her perfect Boris, her poor machines. All of it  _so_ far away. With no way to make it back to them.  
  
    Her eyes traveled back over to the painting angel. Her sour expression twisted into a glare the best it could. Just look at her. Her slender frame, perfect face... Even her  _halo,_  albeit much smaller than hers, was in one piece. How did  _she_  come out so complete. Had she ever known what it was like to not be good enough? Or had she always gotten what she wanted. Just like back in the day...  
  
    A rotten feeling gnawed it's way into her chest.   
  
    Her gaze moved on, glancing over the array of pictures and letters and numbers scrawled across the wall. All of  _her_  handiwork, she assumed. She caught glimpses of words, phrases painted on in black ink. She may have been near-perfect, but her handwriting left a bit to be desired.   
  
    ' _Hope._ ' ' _Always a way._ ' ' _Choose to be happy._ ' A list of the floors of the studio. And a painting of a halo that seemed to be smeared, as if someone tried to scrub it off.   
  
    "... Why do you do that?" Alice broke the silence.   
  
    "Hm? Do what?" She paused in her work, but didn't turn around.  
  
    " _That_." Alice gestured to the wall. "Why do you bother with it? I strongly doubt anyone's going to read it." Assuming half of these shambling ink creatures down here were even remotely literate.   
  
    She was quiet for a moment, but then gave a small shrug. "It helps me...  _organize_ things, I think. Sometimes, it helps to get it out in a physical form, instead of keeping it in your head. That, and... it's the only way some of us can communicate."   
  
    She leaned over and set her paintbrush down, stepping aside for Alice to get the full view of her project. A Boris, sitting in a chair, a gent pipe at his side. Above his head were the letters "TOM".   
  
    "That's what he wrote on the floor the day I found him." She sauntered over to the nearby table and pulled up a chair. "It's the only name he responds to, so... I see no reason to call him anything different."  
  
    Alice gave the painting a deliberately unimpressed look.  _Tom_. His expression looked almost peaceful in how she'd rendered him. "Yes... You really captured his personality, I can tell."   
  
    She gave a small roll of her eyes in response. "He's only aggressive towards people he doesn't trust. It took him some time to warm up to Henry, but  _you_..." She shook her head slightly. "I don't blame him for how he's treated you."  
  
    She leaned back in her chair, one foot crossing over the other. "I found him not far from your lair, you know. I don't know what you did to him in there, but he was terrified out of his wits and missing an arm. Frankly, he's got every right to not trust you."  
  
    The good side of Alice's face twisted into a sneer. "We're not exactly striving to improve our relationship, my dear. If he hadn't escaped I'd have done far worse to him than an simple little amputation."   
  
    Her lookalike's eyebrows furrowed. "You're twisted, and vile...  Do you know that? Or do you just care  _that_ much about yourself. That you're willing to hurt anyone just to get what you want."  
  
    "I do what I must to get by, darling." Alice spit back, without a hint of kindness in that pet name. "Caring about other people will only lead you to ruin. I don't need anyone else, and I never will."   
  
    The angel shook her head slowly. "... What happened to you? How could you hold so little regard for others?"  
  
    "... What  _happened_ to me?" A nerve was struck inside of her. Pretending not to remember now, was she? Oh no, she was going to have another thing coming if she thought this little innocent facade was going to continue.  
  
    Alice slowly rose from her cot. "You know  _very_ well what happened." Her voice slipped into a cutesy falsetto. "You thought you could just prance right in and sing a little ditty and the whole world would fall to your feet, didn't you?" She put a hand under her chin in a mockingly innocent post. "And what happened to poor little Susie? She was left high and dry, without even a second glance."   
  
    The angel leaned back in her chair slightly, unsettled, even if Alice couldn't physically harm her from across the room. And then, genuine confusion seemed to cross her face. "...  _Susie_?" Her head tilted to the side. "Who... Are you talking about yourself?"  
  
    Alice's hand dropped to her side, her mocking innocent facade immediately forgotten. Did she not remember? No, she was lying. She  _had_  to be.   
  
    "... Susie." Alice repeated the name. "I... We  _worked_  here."  
  
   The angel looked like Alice was speaking absolute nonsense to her. "Worked?  _Here_? But how-"  
  
    "I was her  _voice_." Alice was now standing at the small window of her cell. "I sang her songs, spoke all her lines. For over a  _year_." Memories she thought she had repressed forever were suddenly flooding back into her brain. Her hands gripped the wood so tightly she was leaving nail marks. "And then you...  _you_..."  
  
    "Alice, I don't know what you're talking about-"  
  
    " _You took her from me!_ " Her fist collided with the wooden bar hard enough to rattle the ceiling. "You took away  _everything_... All I ever wanted and hoped for... Just pranced right in there and won him over just like that..." She kept her eyes on her floor, her jaw clenched so tightly it could've broken. Don't cry, Alice.  _Don't_. Not in front of her. "I didn't even know until I came in that day..."  
  
    It was silent. For how long, she couldn't tell. But she heard her speak first.   
  
    "... With all sincerity, I don't what you're talking about." The angel shook her head again. "I've  _never_ worked here. All I remember before this is..." She gestured slightly, searching for the right words. "... I had no body, I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe... I could barely even think. It was as if someone had poured my mind into an ocean, and I was nothing but pieces of consciousness floating about. Nothing but...  _thoughts_."  
  
    Alice stayed quiet.  _Like fish in a bowl..._  
  
    She continued. "And then... something changed. I came together, and I was whole. I opened my eyes and then... I was here."  
  
     _She doesn't remember._ What happened to her? Did she forget? ... Or is she not even  _her_?  
  
    Alice lifted her head, locking eyes with her. "... Do you even know your name?"  
  
    The angel could only shrug. "People call me Alice... But I'm no angel. Not the one they think I am, anyway."  
  
    Her eyes traveled back over to her paintings. To the halo that had been smeared. "... It's Allison." She didn't know why she'd said that, but the words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them.  
  
    She looked back at her. " _Allison_?"  
  
    "That's who you are.  _Were_..." She slowly moved away from the window and back to her cot, her shoulders heavy as she eased herself back onto it. "Allison Pendle..."   
  
    "Allison Pendle..." She repeated the name. "... I don't know how to explain it, but... it fits. It feels  _right_." She stood up and pushed her chair aside suddenly and snatched up her paintbrush once again, a new and sudden optimism in all her motions. "Hold on, how do you spell it? One L or two?"  
  
     _God_ , she was already grating on her nerves.   
  
    "Two..." She'd dug this grave for herself, may as well lie in it. "But don't expect me to know anything else about you." She'd be damned before she told this girl any more about the person she used to be.   
  
    She wasted no time in writing her name on the wall, her hand moving quickly and elegantly as she went. There, in dripping black ink, was  _ALLISON_. Right next to  _TOM_. "Allison." She repeated it again. "It's perfect. Like a puzzle piece that was missing this whole time, that's finally fallen into place..."  
  
    Alice didn't respond. It wasn't her. It was  _never_ her. How long had she spent fantasizing her revenge on this woman? To plunge a knife into her neck and watch her slowly bleed to death? To take her apart and extract the parts she so desperately needed for perfection. All this time, and she was just a copy. The rot felt like it was chewing a gaping hole in her chest cavity.   
  
    She hadn't even noticed that it'd become silent again. She barely even heard the footsteps coming over to her door.   
  
    "... Hey." Allison's voice was soft. "This is for you."  She was standing at the window of the cell, a small smile on her face. In her hand was a ragged, but clean piece of cloth.   
  
    Alice looked between the cloth and her. "... What is  _that_  for?"  
  
    Allison glanced at it. "It's a rag, I'm pretty sure."  
  
    "I  _know_ what it is." Alice frowned deeply at her. "What I'm inquiring is  _why_ are you giving it to me?"  
  
    She set it on the ledge of the window. "You've got a spot on your face there, where Tom hit you. I figured you'd might want to clean yourself up."  
  
    Without thinking, Alice brought her hand up to her temple. Certainly enough, there was a spot of dried ink that had ran down her forehead where that gent pipe had struck her. Just her luck, she'd had this entire conversation looking like a mess.   
  
    "I  _was_ going to give it to you earlier, but... Well, I wanted to finish my painting first." Allison headed back over to her chair. "Thank you, by the way, for the name. I think it's lovely..."  
  
    Alice's one eyebrow raised slightly. She was hardly expecting to be thanked in a situation like this. But, it wasn't going to be enough to elicit a kind response in return. "The feeling isn't mutual."  
  
    "Wasn't expecting it to be." Allison gave her a small smirk and eased back into her chair. "You know, it's odd, but I could've sworn I heard humming when I was singing earlier today. That wasn't you, was it?"  
  
    Alice scoffed. "You must've been hearing things, then. I haven't made a sound since you woke me up."  
  
    Allison gave her a small look with a raised eyebrow. "Right, must have just been my imagination."  
  
    She wasn't sure how much she believed her. 


	3. River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group travels to the village of the Lost Ones.

Alice awoke to the sound of tapping on wood.

"Hey," a female voice that she had grown all too familiar with spoke to her. “You want to come with us?"

She blinked as she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Come with you? Where?"

"On an errand, of course. I'm asking if you'd like to come."

Her one eye squinted. This was rather unorthodox to say the least. What sort of errand required all four of them to travel together? A part of her was intrigued, almost curious, but another, much larger part of her was extremely skeptical.

"And you're asking me, because...?" Her eye traveled over to behind Allison, where Henry and Tom were seated at their little table. A few crates full of inconspicuous objects rested on the table between them. Tom looked absolutely disgruntled, as he always did. There wasn't a doubt in hell he didn't approve of this. Henry, of course, looked more concerned than anything. Again, as he always did.

Allison seemed to catch on to where Alice was looking, and she glanced behind her. "He doesn't trust to leave you here on your own. I on the other hand think it's safer to travel in a group for this sort of outing." She leaned against the wood, an almost coy little smile crossing her features. "That, and you look like you're about to die of boredom."

\--------

This was a stupid idea. She realized that the moment she stepped foot outside the safehouse. She couldn't put a single toe out of line without Tom ready to smash her into a pulp, or Allison to drive that sword through her. She may as well be walking an extremely perilous tightrope.

Henry, of all people, was the first to break the silence. "... Alice?"

"Allison, you can call me Allison."

"Right, Allison.." He fell back slightly to walk beside her, adjusting his grip on the crate he was carrying. "Not that I don’t trust your judgement on this, but are you sure this is a good idea?"

Alice could feel his eyes on her. Her skin tingled, and she held her tongue as to not spit a harsh retort at him.

"As of right now, it's our best option." Allison replied, giving Henry a small reassuring smile before turning her head back to Alice in front of her. "Tom and I know this place like the back of our hands. It's very easy to get lost down here if you don't know the way. One way will take you straight into the Ink Demon’s territory, the other-"

"I'm not going to run." Alice cut her off. “Unlike most things down there, I’ve a semblance of self preservation.”

"... Right, as I said." Allison nodded and gave Henry another a small smile. "See? Nothing to be afraid of."

The rest of the walk was quiet and uneventful. They came to a stop at the edge of what looked like a river, only it was a deep, inky black for the which the bottom couldn't be seen. It traveled off into a deep, dark tunnel, a gaping maw that Alice could only assume they were going to have to travel into.

Henry and Tom walked over to two boat-like contraptions sitting on a ramp. Allison came over and fiddled with a panel next to them. She took a key off of her belt and inserted it into a hole and gave it a sharp twist, then pulled down on the lever on the panel. A heavy ker-chunk sound was heard, and the boat was detached from its resting place and lowered down the ramp and into the inky river with a splash. Another ker-chunk, and the second boat dropped into the ink after it.

Allison removed her key, looking to the boats with a proud smile. "Ready to set sail, everyone.”

Alice couldn't help but roll an eye at her. This woman had an uncanny ability to flip-flop between the personality of an intimidating renegade and a child. She almost preferred the intimidating renegade.

They climbed into the boats one by one. Allison led Alice into the first boat, Tom and Henry climbed into the second. With a small nod to Tom, Allison pressed the lever on the front of the boat forward. The motor whirred to life as the boat began to travel down the ink-filled tunnel.

The air was frigid and heavy as they floated along the path, and Alice found herself having to hold back a shudder. She was used to the studio being void of any heat, but something about this air chilled her down to the bone. Almost as if it could feel them, floating around them and threatening to strangle them. She spared a glance towards Allison, who had her eyes on the path ahead of them. If she felt any chill, she wasn't letting onto it.

They continued in silence, the vast and deep tunnel seemingly endless. And then something in the distance caught Alice's eye.

It was a light. No, several lights. As the boat got closer, many tall, dark shapes started coming into view. Massive objects that seemed to be made out of scraps of metal and wood. Buildings, she suddenly realized. It was an entire village.

Allison pulled down the lever, slowing the boat down as they approached what had to be their destination. The boat drifted to a crawl as it floated up to a dock on the edge of the river. She stepped onto the dock, a long rope in her hand, and tied it around the nearest post she could reach. Behind them, Tom and Henry pulled to a stop and tied their boat in place as well.

Alice took this as her cue to stand, watching her step as she walked onto the dock, Henry and Tom right behind her with the crates in their arms. This place was massive, unlike anything she'd ever seen before. An entire civilization right underneath her feet, and she'd never known until now. Somewhere across the docks, she saw an ink-covered humanoid sitting on a ledge, a fishing rod and line in their hands. If they had noticed them arriving, they didn't seem all too interested.

Allison, Tom and Henry started down the docks. They stepped over to the solid ground, walking into the large clearing around which the other buildings were constructed. Allison slowly came to a halt in the center of the small town, glancing about the large buildings.

Alice was about to ask, when something came to her as they stood in the middle of this village. It was quiet. Too quiet. The place looked as if it had been well lived in, and yet there wasn't another soul to be found. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the closing of a door. As she looked over to one of the windows, the light inside went out.

Tom came over to Allison, a look of concern crossing his features. Allison returned the look. "Something's not right..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if she feared someone or something could overhear them.

Tom could only give a small shrug in response, although his look of concern didn't leave him. Perhaps they ought to leave before anything else happens, he seemed to think.

Somehow, Allison understood him. "No, we brought them what they asked for, and now they've got to keep their end of the bargain." She shook her head, her brow furrowed in concern. "C'mon, we'll worry about whatever's going on later." With that, she started down the nearest open path headed deeper into the quiet village. Tom, his crate still in hand, followed.

Alice exchanged a brief look with Henry, who seemed to be just as confused as she was, albeit quite a bit more concerned. Nevertheless, they had no choice but to follow.

They walked as a group past several more makeshift houses, some of which with lights shining under the doors, but still nary a soul to be found roaming about outside. Alice caught glimpses of words and phrases scrawled on the walls.

NOT MONSTERS.

WHAT AM I?

Quite the jovial sounding group, whoever lived here. But then she spotted something that made her stop a moment.

NO ANGELS.

... She'd seen that message before. Back when she was still half-formed and partially melted, slinking about the halls in search of any Butchers, anything she could drag back and salvage any usable parts off of them. That message was smeared on the wall during one of her explorations. Several ink covered humanoids surrounded it, and at the center of their gathering was their masked prophet. The ever-titular Sammy Lawrence, as she came to know him by.

Her ink suddenly felt colder than usual.

Allison walked up to a closed door on one of the dilapidated houses and rapped her knuckles against it, effectively jolting Alice out of her previous thoughts. No response. She looked back and exchanged a look with Tom, then turned back and banged her fist on the door. "Come on, I know you're here..." She muttered to herself.

Another long moment passed, and then the door slowly cracked open. The figure inside was difficult to see, but Alice could make out an ink-coated body and a singular glowing eye peering at them.

Allison gave the ink person a small nod of her head, a small smile crossing her face. "It's us. We've brought some things you might like to take a look at."

The ink person stared at her for a long, almost unsettling moment. "... You're rather brave to come here, especially at a time like this..." Their voice was quiet, vaguely feminine, and surprisingly easy to understand, despite their mouth being covered with ink.

Allison's previous smile quickly faded. "... What do you mean? This is what we've always done."

They tilted their head, opening the door a crack further. "You haven't heard, then...?" They looked behind them, then slowly pulled their door open. "Perhaps you ought to come inside..."

Alice didn't trust this ink person one bit, but when Allison looked back at the group and gestured for them to follow her, she knew she had no choice. Besides, maybe it was safer to get indoors than stay outside here.

To say this person's living quarters was meager would have been an understatement. Their "house" consisted of a few planks of wood on a dirt floor, a few cans of bacon soup that had been modified into candles, a mangy little cot sitting in the corner, and a couple of crates resting against the wall filled with various nondescript items. It looked barely big enough to hold three people, let alone five.

Alice nearly bumped into Allison as she, Tom, and Henry all filed themselves into this small room the best they could. It took some stepping around each other, but they were able to get themselves settled on the floor.

Tom set his crate down on the wooden planks and gestured for Henry to do the same, the two of them easing themselves onto the dirt floor next to their respective crates. Alice stepped over to the wall and set herself down, her legs tucked in as a daintily as she could manage given the small space. Allison followed suit and leaned back against the wall. The ink person took another glance outside, then closed the door and turned back to the group.

"Now, back to my previous question.” Allison spoke calmly but firmly. "What were you talking about? Did something... happen?"

They brought a hand to their chest, slowly lowering themselves to the floor in a rather dramatic fashion. "Oh, it's terrible! An awful tragedy! The worst to ever grace our community!" They looked to the group, their sunken and glowing eyes filled with dread and despair. "Our beloved prophet has gone missing..."

The color drained from Henry's face. He averted his gaze down towards the floor, not daring to look the ink person in the eye.

Allison’s eyebrows furrowed as she exchanged a quick look with Tom. "Missing? What do you mean?"

They could only shake their head. "He told us he was headed for his Sanctuary up above, to reach out to our Lord and make him an offering... But it's been days, and there's still been no sign of his return. He couldn't have abandoned us, could he? He said our Lord would set us all free, and he our shepherd as our Lord leads us to salvation... Oh no... Please... He couldn't have..." They buried their face in their hands, their body quaking as they sobbed quietly.

Alice risked a small look over to Henry, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but in this little shack.

Allison's eyes darted to the rest of her group, a slight awkward tension hanging in the air. "... I... I'm sure he hasn't abandoned you. Perhaps he's still just waiting for a sign from your, erm, Lord. Maybe he doesn't want to return until he has good news..."

They sniffled, looking back up at Allison with their sad, melancholy eyes. "... Yes... Yes, perhaps you're right. Perhaps we've all assumed the worst far too early..." They leaned in closer to her, as if trying to study her. "You don't know anything, do you...? Our Prophet always had some rather choice words about angels… It took quite a bit of convincing him to let you visit us..."

Allison leaned back slightly as the ink person nearly invaded her personal space. "No, no of course not. Do you think we would have come here if we did?"

"... No... I suppose not..." They lowered their gaze back down towards the floor for a moment, then lifted their head back up. "Well, perhaps we ought to get to what you came here for. Did you bring what we asked for?"

Allison nodded. Finally, things were getting somewhere. "Yes, we did. As much as we could find, anyhow. We had to search high and low for some of this stuff."

Alice watched as the ink person, Tom, and Allison brought their crates over to the center of the floor and set out their contents. There were tools, weapons, globs of ink, gears, a few power cores, and a plethora of other various items she'd seen strewn about the studio.

The ink person picked up a miner's hat and examined it, turning it around and switching the light on and off again. "What would you like for this...?"

"... How many gears would you offer for it?"

"... Four."

"Make it five and it's yours."

"... Fine, deal."

\--------

“You dragged me all the way out here… To barter with them.” Alice spoke bluntly as they walked back through the village towards the boats. “All this trouble for a few gears and cores?”

Allison gave her a rather deadpan look, her eyes half-lidded. “Some of these supplies are only found on their side of the river. If you know where to find any more, you can feel free to let me know.”

"Oh yes, and was the record and the pack of cigarettes that are most definitely stale by at least thirty years also equally important?"

"We've got an old record player back home. Never could find any records until now. As for the cigarettes, I just wanted some. I haven't smoked since... Well, ever."

This woman was going to be the death of her someday, she just knew it.

They tossed their items back into their boats before piling back in. Tom and Henry's boat set out first, then Allison and Alice behind them. Once again into the darkness, the lights of the village slowly fading into nothing behind them.

Alice sat near the edge of the boat once again, drifting in and out of thought. But then, she felt the boat suddenly lurch underneath them, the motor sputtering and coughing before gradually coming to a halt. She looked over to Allison, who'd turned to face the stern.

"Shit..." She muttered. "I think the engine's clogged... Hold on, I'll take a look." She walked over and knelt down at the little box connected to the boat's rudder and opened up a panel on the side of it. Just as she suspected, large globs of ink were stuck between the gears of the boat engine.

"Of course..." She sighed heavily and stood to her feet. "Engine's clogged." She called out to Tom and Henry, who'd stopped their boat a good distance away when they noticed Alice and Allison weren't following them. "I'm going to try and unstick it. Give us a moment."

Alice could see them nod as Allison turned back to the engine. This day was turning out to just be full of surprises.

Allison took a crowbar off her belt and started prying out globs of ink, each piece coming out with a sickening squelch sound. "This doesn't usually happen that often... These gears are probably due to be replaced when we get back, though."

Alice had to stifle a yawn. "Fascinating, do go on." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. If Allison had noticed it, however, she didn't seem to let on.

"They start to get worn down going through the ink over time." She continued. "That's why we always have a set of gears on hand, to quickly replace anything that's falling apart."

It took only moments for Alice to completely tune her out. She knew very well how gears and engines functioned, she'd been tending to her own machines for years before she stumbled into the grasp of this little motley crew. God, her poor machines... What would become of them if she didn't get back to them? 

A distant splash caught her ear. She blinked and looked up past Allison at the edge of the boat, eyes scanning for anything that could've made a sound. Nothing out there except for the occasional ripple in the murky ink. Odd... Had she just imagined it?

Someone called out behind her. Both Alice and Allison turned in the direction of the voice. Tom and Henry were waving at them erratically, borderline frantic, their boat switched into reverse and slowly drifting back towards them.

Allison closed the panel of the engine and stood to her feet, her brow knitted in concern. "... What was that?" She called back to them.

Henry cupped a hand next to his mouth, his eyes wide with fear. "Behind you!"

In that moment, a dark shadow cast over the boat. Both angels turned to see what was behind them. Alice's heart dropped into her stomach.

It was a hand. A massive gloved hand that loomed several feet above them, dripping ink as it slowly rose out of the river like a demented sea monster. Its fingers twitched idly, as if it were trying to study them.

Allison took a slow step back, her hand coming down to the hilt of her sword. "No sudden moves... " She spoke barely above a whisper.

Alice couldn't have moved even if she wanted to. What the hell was that thing? The Ink Demon? Or something else entirely?

And then the worst happened. The hand swung itself down and into the stern end of the boat. Allison cursed and staggered backwards, but was knocked off her feet as the hand collided into the boat, sending the stern end down and the bow upwards. The hand grabbed hold of the boat the best it could, pinning Allison underneath its fingers as it fumbled for a grip.

Alice grabbed hold of the rope tied to the boat as it tipped upwards. The damn thing was trying to drag them under. She could hang onto the bow end as long as she could, but it wouldn't be long before they'd be pulled in stern end first.

Allison cried out as she struggled against the weight of the hand, pulling one arm free and clawing desperately at the wood floor of the boat for something to grab onto. The hand dragged her closer to the river below them, determined to take at least something with it, if not the entire boat.

In a split decision, Alice grabbed Allison’s arm. With her other hand wrapped tightly around the rope she had grabbed onto, she pulled with every ounce of strength she had in her.

Allison pulled against her, managing to pull her other hand free as she slowly started to wriggle herself free from the giant hand’s grip. She fingers found the hilt of her sword, and in one fluid motion she pulled it out and drove it down into the palm of the hand as deep as it would go.

The hand lurched and reared up, black ink spurting from its wound as it released its grip on the boat.

The bow of the boat fell heavily back into the river, large splashes of ink billowing around it. Alice’s grip faltered as they fell, the rope sliding through her palm until it burned through her glove and tore into her skin. She collided against the hard wood with a heavy thud, hot ink running down her wrist as it seared with pain.

Allison pulled herself to her feet, her sword pointed at the hand as it failed and twitched violently. “Forward! Put it forward!”

She didn’t need to ask what she meant. Alice pulled herself up and forced the lever of the boat upward. The boat’s engine roared to life as it lurched forward again, propelling itself down the tunnel once more.

Tom and Henry, seeing that they were safe for now, set their boat back into forward motion. Tom had his gent pipe weapon out as Henry drove, ready to jump ship over to them if they needed help.

The hand groped about blindly where their boat once was, its fingers only coming in contact with thin air. Slowly, it started to pursue them, feeling its way about as it slunk through the tunnel in search of its lost prey.

Allison watched the hand closely, a fierce determination in her eyes, as if daring it to try and attack them again. “You don’t mind steering, do you?” She glanced behind her for a moment.

Alice looked back at her, then to the hand that was now a much safer distance away from them. “Considering the alternative, I think I can manage.” She pressed her injured hand to her side, hoping to put some pressure on it and ease the bleeding. God damn it, it hurt.

Finally, their dock came into view. The hand slowed as they made it into shallower water, it’s fingers curling tightly into a fist as it seemed to realize it couldn’t pursue them any further. With a loud splash, it sank itself back into the water, leaving nothing but a ripple on the surface of the ink as it slunk back into the depths below.

Tom and Henry pulled up first, quickly pulling their boat ashore before coming over and assisting Allison and Alice. Henry waded into the ink when their boat was close enough and helped pull it onto shore and tie it into place.

Tom made a beeline for Allison as she stepped back onto land, quickly checking her over for any injuries.

“Tom, Tom I’m fine, I promise.” She shook her head at his concern, although there was no mistaking the waiver of panic in her voice and the heaviness of her breath. Something told her it wasn’t just her he was worried about. Without a word, she slowly turned her gaze over to the river. Tom, ever the loyal companion, put a hand on her shoulder.

… What was this? A drama class? Alice pulled herself out of the boat, pushing her way past Henry and over to Allison and Tom.

“Would anyone care to tell me what the HELL that was?!” Acting ladylike was far out of the question at this point, all she wanted was answers. “That thing almost capsized us! We could’ve been pulled back!" Distant memories of the dark puddles drifted about in her mind. They were mere feet away from going back that hellish place. 

Tom looked ready to tear into her, but Allison took hold of his shoulder. “... I don’t know, we’ve never seen anything like that before… But from now on, anyone travelling by boat should have a weapon on them.”

Alice could barely believe her ears. From now on? She had to be joking. “... You mean you plan to go back out there? After seeing that… that thing?”

“We’ll have to. Eventually.” Allison replied firmly. “That river is our only emergency exit. If the Ink Demon finds us here, we’ll have to cross it again.”

She opened her mouth, but found no words to retort with.

They walked back home to the safe house quietly, their new items in their arms. Thankfully, they hadn’t lost anything in the incident. Alice followed Allison back to her cell as Tom and Henry got settled in. For just one day, she had a glimpse of what almost felt like freedom, and now it was back to her prison.

She watched as they set out their newly traded items. More gears, a few power cores, a vinyl record and a pack of what she could only assume was the stalest pack of cigarettes known to humankind. They talked for a bit. About what, she couldn’t be bothered to pay enough attention.

She sat on her cot, examining her injured hand. The rope cut her deep enough to draw blood- or ink, rather. It stung numbly now, but the moment she tried to wipe the ink away it flared up in another new surge of pain. She bit her lip, stifling any noise that threatened to escape her.

There was a click of a lock, then the creak of hinges. She looked up in time to see Allison approaching her.

Her expression soured. “... And why, pray tell, are you here now?”

Allison seemed almost hesitant, something rather unlike her. “... I saw your hand. I thought, maybe you’d like to get it patched up.” In her hand, Alice finally noticed, was a wad of bandage material.

She raised an eyebrow at her. “... You know that’s not necessary. It’ll be healed in just a few days.”

“I know, but… Maybe this will help the pain, just until it’s better.”

She got a feeling she wasn’t going to leave until she got what she wanted. With a disgruntled sigh, she moved over on her cot. Allison wasted no time in coming over and sitting herself down next to her.

“... Could I see it? Perhaps?”

... Alice found herself offering Allison her hand, which she took gently in her own for a brief moment, as if examining it. “That rope got you pretty bad, it looks.” She spoke softly as she started to wrap a piece of bandage around it. “Here, this should help it feel better.”

“... Why are you doing this?” The question came out before Alice could stop herself. She had to know. This woman had to have a reason for being so… kind to her. No one ever did anything for anyone else without some sort of ulterior motive. Especially not here. Especially not to her.

Allison blinked, her dark eyes meeting with Alice’s gold one for a brief moment. “... I didn’t get to thank you earlier.”

It was now Alice’s turn to blink. “... Thank me? For what?”

“Back on the boat, when that thing attacked us. You pulled me out of its grasp so that I had a chance to fight it off. You saved me.”

She could’ve sworn she felt her heart beat a moment. “... I had to. Or else we both would have ended up at the bottom of that river.”

A small smile crossed Allison’s face as she finished bandaging Alice’s hand. “Well, nevertheless, consider this my thanks.” She gently lowered Alice’s hand back down to her lap. “Thank you, Alice.”

Alice looked between her and her now bandaged hand. Oddly enough, the sting had lessened a bit. “... You’re welcome.”

Allison said goodnight and left moments later, but Alice barely heard her. She laid on her back on her cot and stared up at the ceiling, pondering. She pondered for a very long time.


	4. Premonition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the group now safe once again after the river incident, we take a moment in the story to briefly shift focus. This small interlude goes to a very certain character who will be making his presence known very soon.

An old tune played softly, its notes flitting about the walls of the broken down studio. Deep within the confines of its walls lay a sanctuary, only accessible by those who play the correct tune. On the floor of the hideaway lay several candles, an old banjo, a smeared pentagram, and a crooked, broken mask, discarded and cast aside. The tune of the phonograph was all but drowned by the sound of hollow, grief-stricken sobs.

The figure of a man- or someone who was once a man- lay on his knees, his body bent and head lowered to the floor. His ink-coated body was racked with every sob that escaped him.

“Why… Why have you forsaken me…” His words came out choked and pained. “I did everything you asked… I gave you everything I had... And you cast me aside…” His hands gripped his head as another series of sobs overtook him.

“Please, my Lord… I beg your forgiveness… I need your guidance… _We_ need you… To set us free…” He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, his trembling hands drawing the lines along the pentagram where it had been smudged, deft fingers tracing the symbols he had come to know by heart.

“Please… If you are listening… Tell me what I must do…” He bowed his head as if in prayer and knelt within the pentagram. Slowly, his breathing steadied as he took several long, shaky breaths.

_………_

_………………_

Blurred, unfocused visions danced about his head, glimpsed only a moment before vanishing into darkness. Then, a image slowly formed and came into view.

A woman- no, an _angel_ , perhaps?- stood on the edge of an ink-filled river. Her eyes were dark, sunken, but filled with a determination the likes of which he’d never seen.

The image shifted, and a Boris ambled over to her side, its brow knitted with concern.

And then, a third figure joined them. That man… The one who was the first attempted sacrifice… He studied them, studied their faces, their location… They couldn’t be far from the village…

Behind them, he caught a glimpse of another angel… That one, crooked angel, who once went by Miss Campbell… Yes… He still remembered her… The look on her face seemed to suggest she was not wishing to be there.

The vision began to blur once more. Ink-like tendrils seemed to close up around the trio of people in his vision, engulfing them until they had dissipated completely from his view.

He opened his eyes once more, back in the confines of his sanctuary. “... _Yes_ … I see…” He lifted his head towards the smiling Bendy statue. “You need them all… Every last non-believer, reprimanded… _Purged_ …" The image of the angel, that Miss Campbell, flitted into his mind. Perhaps she could be of use to him...

He bowed his head, his hands clasped tightly. “I swear on my life, on the lives of my dear sheep… We will find them… And if we cannot change their ways, cannot show them the light of your blessings…” A small, twisted smile crossed his face. “... They will make perfect offerings instead.”

He slowly stood to his feet, scooping up his mask and placing it once more upon his head. “I will not fail you, my Lord… They shall rue the day they chose to turn their backs on you...”

Deep from within the walls, another song began to play.

 

_Sing a happy song… Whistle a merry tune…_

_Wait for his arrival… For he’s coming very soon._  



	5. Cold Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice gets a visit from an old, unexpected friend while out on a patrol run with Allison.

The air was cold and smelled like dust as they walked together. How this woman had managed to convince her- and her companions for that matter- to come along with her on a patrol run was beyond her. But then again, it was certainly more interesting than listening to those two imbeciles play cards together. Maybe this little outing wouldn't be excruciatingly boring. 

“Remember, we need to keep our eyes and ears open for any danger out here.” Allison glanced over her shoulder at her, leading the way as they traveled deep into the studio. “If you see or hear anything, tell me. It could be the difference between life and death.”

“I know,” Alice replied curtly, “I’ve had my fair share of encountering less favorable folk down here.” Granted, she usually had an axe to split their heads in two as well, but that was beside the point.

A quiet nod from Allison. “I could imagine... If it’s a butcher or a searcher, I’ll be able to take care of it.”

“And what if it’s something more dangerous?”

“We run back to the safehouse and alert Tom and Henry.” She slowed her pace and glanced around the corner of a long hallway, then started along the path once again, sensing the coast was still clear. "And if it's the Ink Demon, we'll need to hide."

"And not run back to the safehouse?" 

"No. That'll just run the risk of leading him to our hiding place." She eyed the walkways above them. Still nothing to be seen. "And if he knows where we are, well... I don't think I need to say what would happen to us."

Fair enough, Alice thought to herself. She couldn't deny the woman had a head on her shoulders when it came to survival down here. 

They came to a halt in a small clearing, complete with a sofa, an old record player, a few miscellaneous books, and a rickety-looking miracle station. Not much, but it'd get the job done. Allison sheathed her sword and stretched her shoulders. "Looks like a good place to set up camp for now. Remember, if you see anything-"

"I tell you, yes. You've made that point extremely clear." She replied curtly and shouldered past her, setting herself down on the sofa across the way. "So, you stay here for hours on end, just searching for danger that might come along?"

Allison scoffed slightly and shrugged. "That's about the sum of it. Having someone out on patrol every few hours has saved Tom and I's lives several times. You're far better off knowing trouble is headed your way than waiting until it drops on your head."

She came over and fiddled with the record player sitting on the table next to the sofa. "Of course, I do have a few ways to help pass the time." A moment later, and a mellow, rather pleasant tune had filled the room. Quiet enough as to not drown out the noises around them, but audible nevertheless. 

She looked back to Alice, a small smile on her face. "There. Does that help?"

Alice only responded with another frown. It seems that was the only expression she ever made at this woman. "Quite." 

A small exhale and a shake of her head was the only response from Allison before she sat down on a nearby crate, her foot tapping lightly. "This is a good song, too. I've always wanted to dance to it."

Alice glanced in her direction, her one eyebrow raising. "What's stopping you?"

A weak laugh from Allison. "Well I've... I've never learned how, is all." 

It was Alice's turn to scoff now. "Never learned how to _dance_? Of all the things I've seen you do, dancing is certainly not a difficult thing to pick up on. There are plenty of simple dances even a child could learn."

"Oh? And am I to assume you know how to dance as well?"

She almost had to laugh. " _Of_   _course_  I do. What sort of fool do you take me for?" Had this woman even so much as glanced at the posters with Alice Angel's face that were scattered all over the walls? _She sings, she dances._    
  
Footsteps approached her, and then an outstretched hand entered her vision. She looked up to see Allison standing above her, her hand extended towards her. “... And what, pray tell, are you doing now?”

“Asking you to dance, of course.” Allison replied curtly, but Alice nevertheless caught a small glimpse of a coy little smile on her face. “If you’re such an expert on dancing, how about you show me.”

Alice’s one good eye squinted at her. “... And what makes you think I’d like to show you?”

Her hand came back to her hip. “Well, you sounded rather confident in your skills just now, so how about you go ahead and show me them?”

She stayed silent, her eye scanning her closely for any cracks in her demeanor. What on earth was this girl playing at.

Allison’s eyebrow raised slightly, her smile turning into a smirk. “What’s the matter, Alice? Cold feet?”

Her hand clenched and she rose to her feet. “No. Follow me.” She took her by the arm and pulled her towards the open floor. If this woman wanted to dance so badly, she'll show her. If only to pass the hours being stuck in the same spot. 

They came to a stop in the middle of the floor, Alice stepping around to face her. “We can start with a waltz. It’s an easy one, even for you.”

Another small snort from Allison. "I'm a fast learner, Miss Alice. You might be surprised at how quickly I catch on."  
  
She gave a quiet scoff in return. "We'll see about that."  
  
Somewhere over in the distance, as if it knew what was about to happen, the old gramophone began to play a slow tune.   
  
Alice glanced down at her feet, and then up to Allison standing in front of her. "I'll lead to begin with, and you can follow. Here, take my hand."   
  
Obediently, Allison raised her hand, allowing Alice to grasp it firmly.   
  
"Now put your other hand on my shoulder."  
  
A blink from Allison. "I beg your pardon?"

Her one eye squinted at the woman for a moment. "Put your hand. On my shoulder. What part of that was unclear?"

Allison shook her head, as if she were clearing her thoughts. "No, no... I think I've just realized how different it is to dance with a partner as opposed to doing it alone. That, and, well..." She managed a small laugh as she set her hand on Alice's shoulder as instructed. "I've also been holding my arms in the wrong place this whole time." 

She had already lost track of how many times she had to resist rolling her eyes. "You may find that'll be the least of your concerns once we begin." 

The glint of Allison's smile faded.  _Good_. She was already a naive little fool for asking her to dance, even more so if she thought this was going to be enjoyable. 

"Now listen closely, and follow my lead. I'll step forward with my left foot, so you need to step backwards with your right. Then, we'll move to the side," she gestured in the direction of the nearby-facing wall, "and we'll do the opposite. I'll step back with my right, and you step forward with your left. We'll repeat it until you get it correct." 

Or until she was about to go mad with frustration. Whichever came first.   
   
"Ready?" She stepped forward with her left foot. Allison almost stepped back with her left as well before quickly switching to her right, nearly tripping both of them up in the process. "I said your  _right_ foot."  
  
"I know, I know. Just give me a moment to catch on." Allison furrowed her brow and kept her eyes on their feet. "Step back, and then which way do we go?"  
  
"The left." They almost went in opposite directions before Allison had to correct herself again. "I meant  _my_ left."  
  
"You couldn't have just told me that to begin with?"

"Do I need to remind you who's leading? Try and follow my movements."   

"I would if I didn't have to watch where our feet are going." 

"I suggest you try talking less, then."  
  
They stepped back, this time getting the motions correct, and then to the right, ending up back where they had started. "There, you've done one waltz." Alice gave her a small smirk, more than ready to drive this teach moment into the ground as far as she could. "Now, let's do it again."  
  
They continued to the rhythm of the music, the time passing as their movements together became more synchronized and flowing. Allison followed her movements closely, until she eventually didn't have to look down at the floor anymore. Eventually, through a bit of convincing on Allison's part, they switched and let her be the lead.   
  
Allison gave her a grin as they continued to dance together, the song reaching its final chorus. "You know, I think I'm starting to get the hang of this."

Alice could only scoff as she followed Allison's lead. "It only took you upwards of an hour, but yes, you've certainly caught on quickly. Just don't get too excited and drag me about the floor. You may be leading, but we're still dancing  _together_. It's a two-person feat."

"Right, right of course." A small laugh escaped her as she pulled Alice into another waltz, one more before the song finally reached its end.  
  
They came to stop as the song hit its final note, the two women almost breathless from how long they had practiced together. Alice looked up and met her dance partner's gaze. Her dark eyes were inquisitive and full of an emotion that Alice could only assume was wonder. She felt something shift on her side, and she suddenly realized that Allison's hand had found its way down to her waist. At what point that had gotten there, she hadn't the faintest clue. For a fleeting moment, something twinged in her chest. 

Allison seemed to notice the shift in atmosphere, and released Alice's hand and brushed her dress off. "Well... That was probably the most fun I've had down here in a while." She gave Alice another smile. "You're a very good teacher, did you know that?"  
  
Alice blinked, then shook her head, hoping to dispel the heat that had formed in her chest for just a moment. What on earth had gotten into her? "I never thought of myself being much for teaching. But I'm glad one of us got some enjoyment out of it."

Allison's eyebrows raised for a moment. "Just one of us? You looked like you were enjoying yourself quite a bit there. You're a good dancer."  
  
Alice opened her mouth to respond, when the creaking of boards not far away from where they were caught their attention. Something was shuffling about in the hallway behind them, just out of sight, but close by nevertheless.   
  
Allison immediately tensed, her hand coming down to her sword, her demeanor shifting immediately She glanced at Alice and pressed a finger to her lips and slowly crept towards the noise. "Stay here..." She whispered. "I'll go investigate. Hide in the station if you need to..." With that, she quietly slunk into the hallway and disappeared around the corner.  

Alice watched her vanish out of sight, quietly wondering if she ought to have insisted she go with her, but dispelled the thought as quickly as it had come to her. Allison was intelligent and could look after herself. All she had to do was stay put and keep watch for any more danger.   
  
Suddenly a hand came over her mouth and yanked her backwards.

Alice made a noise, an attempt to cry for help, but her voice was muffled by the hand covering her mouth. Another arm wrapped around her neck, holding her firmly in place even as she struggled against her unknown captor. Then, a far too familiar voice purred in her ear.   
  
" _Shhhh_ , don't want to go alerting your little friend now, do we?"

Her captor's grip on her loosened a touch, and she ripped free of their hold and whirled around to face them. A tall, scrawny man- or what was left of a man- stood before her, his face obscured by a damaged, permanently grinning Bendy mask. 

Fury welled within her, her hand clenching into a tight fist as she immediately recognized the man standing before her. "... Why are you here. What the  _hell_ do you want."  
  
Sammy Lawrence crossed his arms and shook his head slightly. "Tsk tsk, Miss Campbell, do you still call yourself an angel with a mouth like that?" He chuckled deeply, menacingly. "I'm simply paying you a visit. According to a few of my fellow associates, you've gotten yourself into quite the predicament. Am I correct?

Her throat tightened. "... What would it matter to you if I were?

"Oh, don't play dumb with me." He spit back, venom glinting on his words. "I am very aware that you've been taken you prisoner, my dear. They've been dragging you about like a dog for weeks now." His demeanor relaxed a moment, and he sauntered about the room, studying the art lining the walls as if this conversation was boring him nearly to death. "I could only imagine what that must be like. Alone, defenseless, trapped with your worst enemies... It sounds akin to a hell on earth."  
  
    She studied him closely, not letting her guard down for a moment. A small part of her considered yelling for Allison, to let her drive her sword into that grinning mask of his, but she instead kept her voice down. "I fail to see why this concerns you so greatly, Mister Lawrence." Just uttering that name left a bitter taste in her mouth.  
  
He turned to face her again. "Was it truly not that obvious? I've come to you with a proposition, my dear."  
  
Her brow furrowed. "... I beg your pardon?"  
  
He stepped closer to her, his grinning mask staring straight through her. "I will be truthful with you... Our lord has grown restless. He stalks our halls far more often than ever before, singing his little tunes and dragging anyone who crosses his path into the inky abyss below. He comes to me in visions, telling me the deeds I must carry out in order to achieve salvation."   
  
He paused, the air deathly still. "He demands sacrifices, Miss Campbell. Anyone who is unworthy of his blessings, who refuse to follow his word, must pay dearly."  
  
Her ink ran cold, fear worming its way through her ribcage, but she didn't dare let on to it. "... And why, pray tell, are you informing me of this?"  
  
"You truly haven't caught on yet, have you? Really now, I had always taken you for the more perceptive sort." Another weak chuckle, devoid of any mirth. "I'm informing you because you and I may be able to help each other. "  
  
Her eyebrow raised, but she didn't interrupt him.   
  
"You see, your little... entourage who's been holding you captive has become somewhat of a fixation for our beloved lord." Sammy continued. "To put it simply, he wants them dead. And if my beloved sheep and I were to hand-deliver them to him..." He paused, a glint of emotion seeming to briefly overtake him. "We will finally have our eternal reward.  _Freedom_..."   
  
    A small noise, almost akin to a sob, escaped him, as if he were getting choked up by the prospect alone, and then he straightened up once more. "Now, listen closely, for this is where you play a _very_ important part. If you were to lead your captors into a little...  _ambush_ , let's say... allowing us to catch them unaware and force them to face their sins, my dear sheep and I will repay you dearly by letting you go free."  
  
Her one eye blinked. "... Free?"  
  
"As a bird, my dear." He dipped his head in her direction, almost akin to bow. "Our lord will even look the other way and let you travel back home safely. Back to your machines, your instruments, and whatever other little toys you've got stored away in your little sanctuary..." He took another slow step closer. "You'll never hear from me, or any of us, ever again. Doesn't that sound rather enticing?"  
  
Her heart almost skipped. This could be her way out. But of course, she knew better than to trust this man immediately. As she said herself, he was always a great liar. "... It'll be my freedom-"  
  
"In exchange for their lives, yes." He cut the sentence short for her. "I ask for nothing more, and nothing less. Have I made myself clear, Miss Campbell?"  
  
She remained silent, studying that dreadful mask for any cracks in his demeanor, any signs he might be lying.   
  
He remained quiet as well for a long moment, and then shook his head. "You truly don't believe me yet, do you?" He stepped around her, pacing like cat hunting after a mouse. "Do you truly find me that heinous? ...Or is there something else causing you to hesitate?"   
  
His voice was behind her now, like a snake hissing in her ear. "You haven't become, heaven forbid,  _fond_ of your captors, have you? That's not a very healthy path to travel down, I'll have you know."  
  
She was about to turn around and tell him off when he interrupted her again. "I strongly doubt you've any feelings for that first one, and even less for the wolf..." A twisted smile was barely visible under his mask. "But that third one... That Pendle woman..."  
  
Her heart leaped, heat rising into her chest as she gave him a glare that could have killed. "I don't know what you're talking about." Her fists were clenched, almost shaking.   
  
"Temper, temper my dear. I was merely expressing my thoughts based off my previous... observations." He stepped back, another dark chuckle filling the room. "You really are a talented dancer, you know. I suppose that does come with being the Angel herself, hm? And the way you danced with your little partner... I could have sworn you didn't wish for it to stop."

She could only pray the heat in her chest that was currently rising to her face wasn't visible on her pale, yellowed complexion. "Whatever you are thinking, Mister Lawrence," she practically spit his name in his direction, "you couldn't have it more wrong. That girl is nothing but a nuisance. Only another obstacle between me and getting back home."   
  
The masked prophet merely shrugged as he slunk around to her side. "Right, perhaps I was...  _mistaken_ , then. You have no qualms with bringing her to me, to let her face our lord as the non-believer that she is, and properly pay for her sins..."  
  
She swallowed hard. "... No, I don't."  
  
"Excellent..." He stepped back around to face her. "In that case, do we have a deal?"  
  
She had heard enough by this point. This man wasn't going to take no for an answer. And if he were truly offering her freedom, then she had no reason not to accept it. " _Yes_ , we have a deal."  
  
Another glimpse of a smile behind that wretched mask. "Finally... You know the others were doubtful that you were going to be of any use to us. I'm quite glad that you were able to prove them wrong." He sauntered back in the direction he had come from, but then paused and turned back to her. "Oh, and there is just one more thing..." He turned towards the shadows, gesturing for something to approach. "Just in case you get, as your captor put it, cold feet..."  
  
Another ink-covered figure emerged from the darkness, carrying something in their bony arms. It was a clear, glass jar, with an inky black organ pulsating inside of it. Her body suddenly went ice cold.  
  
It was her Boris heart. 

She started forward, but Sammy stepped in front of her. "Ah-ah, Miss Campbell, you're not going to be getting that back so easily. There's far more of us than you can see around here. One step closer, and you'll be painfully reprimanded."

She glared at him again, her fury about to boil over. " _Where did you get that._ "  
  
Another low chuckle came from the prophet. God, how she hated his laugh. "It had become rather quiet in your area as of lately, my dear. When we realized you weren't around, we simply took the liberty of going and... exploring your home a bit." 

He sauntered over to the ink person, running a finger around the edge of the jar's lid. "I've heard you went through quite a bit of trouble to get this. It would truly be a shame to see something happen to it, after all your hard work..."

She stepped forward again, her hands clenched tight enough her nails could have pierced her skin. "If you so much as  _touch_  it-"

"Nothing will happen to it, I assure you." He turned back to her. "As long as you uphold your part of the deal, you will have it back safe and sound. Along with your freedom. Betray us, and we will throw it into the abyss, and you can join your captors as a sacrifice instead."

She wanted to strangle him. To come over there and seize him by the throat and watch the life fade from him so painfully slow. But he had her life's work in his clutches, and she was all but at his mercy now. All she could do was glare at him. "... If you lie to me..."  
  
He scoffed. "I give you my word as a man of the cloth, Miss Campbell. No harm will come to your precious little item as long as you do as we say."  
  
He gestured once more, and the ink person stepped back into the shadows and vanished out of sight, along with her Boris heart. "Well now, I do believe that's the end of that." Sammy brought his hands together and headed back towards where he had come from. "It was a pleasure to speak with you, but I'm afraid I've got more important matters to attend to. When the time comes, I trust you'll know what to do."  
  
Alice was about to give him one more snide remark, but the sound of a door creaking open in the distance caught her ear, making her turn in its direction. Behind her, she heard him speak once more. 

"And don't forget... We're your only way out."

She turned back, but was greeted with nothing but a wall and empty space around it. How on earth did he...?

The sound of footsteps interrupted her train of thought, and a familiar voice called out to her. "Looks like the coast is clear, now. It was just a few butchers milling about." Allison strolled up to her, wiping a few globs of black ink off her sword, then came to a stop. "Hey, are you alright? You look a little shaken up."

Alice blinked, then quickly regained herself and shook her head. "I'm fine, I just... thought I heard something." She shrugged and waved off Allison's concerned expression. "Don't give me that look. It was nothing. Just the creaking of these old pipes..."

Allison glanced up above them for a moment. "...Well, we'd better head back nevertheless, my shift's almost over." She slipped her sword back into its holder and started back the way they had originally came.

Alice wanted to follow, but something made her stay in her spot. Something that had been nagging at the back of her head for almost a week now. "... Allison?"

The woman paused, then turned back to her. "Yes?"

"... Why are you so kind to me." The words left her mouth before she could stop them, but she had to know. "Why, after everything I've done to you, do you still insist on treating me like a..." Her tongue felt numb in her mouth. "Like a  _friend_."

Allison was silent for a long moment, and then she stepped closer. "You know... When I was out doing my rounds one night, I found a tape sitting on a sofa. There was a recording of a woman's voice on it."

Alice swallowed, her tongue feeling numb in her mouth.

"She sounded upset..." Allison continued, her eyes going down to the floor. "As if she'd lost something very important to her. I didn't understand at first but... I don't believe she deserved what happened to her. In a way, I could understand why she felt driven to do the things that she did..." 

She stepped closer, her hand coming up to rest on Alice's shoulder. For some reason, Alice found herself unwilling to pull away. "You're not innocent, Susie... Not by a long shot. But you don't harm without a reason, as I've come to understand."

Alice couldn't bring herself to look her in the eye. "... Then why, even though I'm your prisoner, do you not despise me."

A small, tired smile crossed Allison's face. "That's what being the bigger person means, sometimes. Treating your enemies with kindness. I wouldn't be any better if I were cruel to you, so I choose to be kind instead."

"... I don't deserve it. Your kindness..." She wanted to argue with her further, but she couldn't find the strength in herself to fight. 

"I know you think that... But at this point, it's not your decision to make." She removed her hand from her shoulder, glancing up at the walkways above them for any more signs of anything approaching. "It's getting late, we should return now..."

With that, she started once again down the path that they had came. Alice followed behind her, her shoulders heavy and her stomach tying itself in knots.   
  
These next few days were going to be very long.   
    


End file.
